


Junior's First BDSM

by scrabblenits



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 07:59:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrabblenits/pseuds/scrabblenits
Summary: Hoxton and Houston have some fun with rope





	Junior's First BDSM

**Author's Note:**

> idk lol i wrote this almost 2 years ago in one sitting and it's probably a little OOC but hoxton/houston still has my balls in a vice so i like to think that sometimes they can have some cute domestic shit idk. it's a blowjob and houston as a service sub what more do you want

He sat and waited, watching through half-lidded eyes and breathing through a partially closed mouth. Nothing felt better than this, he was sure of it. Nothing gave him such a swell of power and warmth in his groin than seeing the other man on his knees, eyes closed, mouth shut tight on a piece of thick, smooth cloth tied lovingly around his head, his arms bound behind his body, held in place with rope fashioned in clumsy and inexpert knots. There wasn’t much sound, something that Hoxton wasn’t used to, but certainly not objecting to as he reached down between his lazily splayed legs and starts to slowly caress himself, letting out a soft, amused noise as Houston’s eyelids fluttered open and locked onto him. Then again, what garnered more attention in the room than himself? Absolutely nothing, he thought smugly, and allowed the barest pleasured groan as he rubbed along his stiffening cock.

The ghost shifted, trying to fix his own position, probably made uncomfortable by putting all his weight on his knees for so long. Hoxton snorted as he unzipped his fly, pushing his hips upwards in order to shove his pants and underwear down enough to pull his dick out and let it rest comfortably atop the fabric. There was something empowering about being fully clothed while Houston sat before him, clad only in underwear (Hox was very adament about ensuring he wouldn’t get rope-burn on his taint) and ropes. It made Hoxton’s skin tingle pleasantly, and as he hooked his leg over the arm-rest of the chair he was so casually draped in, he cleared his throat and patted his thigh, smiling as Houston seemed to shiver at the abrupt noise.

“Come here and get me hard.” He says, smiling as he watches Houston shuffled forward on his knees, carefully steadying himself to make sure he doesn’t fall flat on his face. It’s as hilarious as it is endearing, but before he has too much time to giggle over it, Houston is there, rubbing his cheek against Hoxton’s thigh, attempting to push the silk gag out of his mouth before the fugitive took pity on him. He reached down, hooking his index and middle finger underneath the tie and pushing it down, watching the saliva spill out of the other man’s mouth as he pulled the soft gag to his chin. The fluid made a damp spot on his pants, and Hoxton wasn’t sure what the protocol for that was- was he supposed to dole out a punishment? He contemplated it for a moment, but his train of thought was suddenly stopped as lips pressed against the head of his cock, and he jerked his hips upwards, gasping in surprise and pleasure to the sudden contact. He didn’t realize that losing focus for half a second would result in Houston taking the initiative, but he does have to consider that he hasn’t spent much time in these scenarios.

It seemed like that was what all this was supposed to be, was some odd scenario that either of them fantasized about but never acted upon, but there they were, with Houston amateurly bound from the waist up and bashfully sucking Hoxton’s dick. He let out a soft moan, and found himself unknowingly trying to stifle his own noises, almost trying to emulate Houston’s usual behavior. At the realization, though, he didn’t allow himself to be more vocal. He adjusted his position in the chair, feeling a cramp start to form in his left hip, where his leg was hooked over the arm-rest so he’s spread-eagle for Houston. He was wide open and it became a little uncomfortable, but feeling Houston’s tongue enthusiastically wiggle underneath his foreskin and rub the slit of skin where his cockhead came together took his mind off the ache that blooms in his joints.

Hoxton’s hand inched forward, hesitant for a moment as he contemplated if it would be breaking the scene if he were to show intimacy towards Houston. He let out a soft noise, pleasured and warm, and decided it didn’t matter as he pressed his hand to the top of Houston’s head, running his fingers through the prickly bristles. There wasn’t much length to the ghost’s hair, but the fugitive curled his digits around them and tugged anyways, not wanting to pull the other man off his dick, but certainly indulging in the feeling that he was in control, even as Houston’s head continued to suck despite the gentle yanking. This went on for a few seconds, Hoxton indulging in the feeling of the man’s tongue still pressed to the underside of his dick before he pressed down harder, really wanting to relish his control.

“Come on now, sunshine. I know you can do better than just a little kissing.” He murmured, watching the other man through barely open eyes, feeling more warmth from the sight of Houston being pushed halfway down his erection than the actual feeling of tongue and teeth sliding along the length. The realization that, with his sudden roughness, Houston could be inclined to bite down, made the fugitive shiver and practically shove the other man’s head down to the base, prompting a gag and panicked look to reach up to him. At the sight of his blue-green eyes staring up, wild with fear of suffocation, Hoxton let out an unabashed moan, nails digging in to Houston’s scalp.

“Good boy…” He practically whispered, holding him there, feeling him gag twice more before he let go and watched as Houston’s head sprang back enough that he could draw in a loud breath. He wasn’t going to bite. He had given himself over to Hoxton and for all the awkward feelings before, the sharpshooter was suddenly entirely alight with a dominant feeling, and painfully hard.

Hoxton offered a shaky grin, legs twitching slightly with the satisfaction surging through him. With the muscles in his thighs jumping, he reached with his right foot, hooking his leg over Houston’s shoulders and pulling him forward so his chest was flush with the chair, and grabbed his head with vigor.

“I didn’t tell you t’ stop.” He practically growled, shuddering again with the swell of power and elation it gave him, and with a sense of ceremony, he pushed Houston’s head down again, forcing him to engulf the entirety of his erection. His sounds were flagrant and bold- his previous attempts to be quiet like his other half were quickly quashed down by the pleasure surging through him. His hips rolled involuntarily, wrenching another gag from the ghost, and a groan from himself; the feeling of Houston choking on his cock was too good to pass up, and he allowed himself to buck forward twice, three times again, all rewarded with Houston twitching and making a strangled noise. There was a terror that sprang to mind at the idea of accidentally causing Houston to vomit that pulled him out of his haze for a moment and his whole body to stagger to a sudden stillness.

“Are… are you okay with this?” He croaked, voice strained, and his grip on the other had slackened considerably to allow him to pull away. He felt as if he had ruined the moment, but he didn’t want Houston to pass out because he was fucking his mouth too hard. There was a heavy breath exhaled from his nose and he pulled away with an incredulous look at Hoxton, hollowing his cheeks in a viscious suction that elicited a near-shout from the fugitive, the whole motion as if to say, ‘does that answer your question?’

He went back down with a vengeance, bobbing his head a few times to get back into the rhythm of things before Hoxton was comfortable again, once more taking a hold of his skull and thrusting upwards into his mouth. It was nicer for the ghost to experience it this way; hands bound and mouth propped painfully open with an ache in his jaw, the back of his throat nearly bruised by the sharpshooter’s rough treatment. He let out soft whimpers, little moans, short breaths huffed in and out of his nose with his eyes screwed shut tight. Heat pooled in his belly, coiling in his groin tight and sharp and straining against the ropes as he sucked the other man’s cock.

Hoxton himself was reaching his peak at a staggering pace, his nails digging hard in to Houston’s scalp as he fucked his mouth, gasping and panting and moaning with wanton regard. He muttered words under his breath, praising Houston, telling him how good it felt, how close he was, about what a good boy Houston was. It was only a few thrusts more before he was cumming in the other man’s mouth, pressed in as deep as he could, making a noise that sounded as if he’d been punched in the chest.

It was after the shock of his orgasm wore off that Hoxton realized Houston was huffing softly, semen and saliva making a wet mess on his chin that he couldn’t wipe away with his hands still bound. The fugitive raised an eyebrow, feeling hazy and spent and body still tingling pleasantly, and gave the other man a once-over, seeing the erection at the front of his boxer shorts, strained by cloth and the ropes around his thighs. The sharpshooter let out a soft sigh, smiling with the slightest malice behind it as an idea formed in his head. He may have been done with his own body, but that didn’t mean the scene had to be over.

“Would y'like to get off as well?” He hummed softly, watching as Houston’s lidded eyebecame alert, snapping up to meet his own, and Hoxton’s smile widened. There was a pause, silence in the air as Houston considered Hoxton’s statement, mouth open and breathing hard as thick drool continued to dribble from his mouth.

“Yes.”

It was the first thing that Houston had said that entire night, his voice so remarkably hoarse and almost /shy/ that it took Hoxton off guard, his self-satisfied plan thrown off in surprise just by the sheer roughness of the other man’s voice. Hoxton’s left leg was almost entirely numb at this point, which he felt like he should have been pissed off about but didn’t entirely mind, seeing as his right foot was the most important part of his genius idea, and it dangled conveniently between the chair and Houston. He had seriously debated with himself before if wearing his boots while having his coworker give him a blowjob was a good idea, but as he thrust his foot out and gave Houston’s erection a gentle nudge, he decided it was the best idea ever. He made a point of caressing the underside of the ghost’s dick with the top of the scuffed leather, curling his toes and shuddering lasciviously as the man before him let out a low, achey moan. Hoxton found himself cursing his refractory period, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get hard again in at least an hour, but savored the warmth that settled in the pit of his stomach regardless, resting his hands over his crotch and thigh and really taking in how Houston’s hips slowly arched forward, trying to rub against the Englishman’s shoe after he had halted his motions and simply let the other man take over.

His motions were hesitant at first, unsure, perhaps even a little ashamed at having to grind against Hoxton’s shoe. But that was part of the fun, right? It had to be. He certainly seemed to get into it a little more as Hoxton braced his leg, occasionally angling his toes upward to put pressure on Houston’s cock, eyes closed tight and lips drawn in a little grimace, the fluid on his chin now dry.

He let his gaze go over Houston entirely, from the dried white on his chin down the sweat-sheen on the skin of his chest to the wet patch of pre-cum against his dark boxers. He looked oddly sweet, chest concave and head bowed as he rut against his boot like a dog, huffing and groaning and rocking his hips against the sole like his life depended on it. It was endearing and sweet and hot all at the same time, and he feels nothing but love for the other man as his hips rocked forward and he drew in a sharp gasping breath. It was over almost as fast as it began, which shocked Hoxton, but at the same time, didn’t really. He let out a soft noise as he watched the small dark patch at the front of his boxers get much larger, seeping through the front and dribbling just a small amount on the top of his shoe. An electric thrill ran through him at the mental image of Houston licking it off, but he figured that there had been enough for one night.

He unhooked his left foot leg from the side of the chair, making a very loud pained noise as the joint popped and pins and needles set in from the returned circulation. Houston was probably in worse shape in that department, though- Hoxton was unsure of how many knots were too tight. Horror briefly overtook him as he imagined having to amputate Houston’s arms because Junior’s First BDSM didn’t go so well. He crouched before his fellow robber, pushing the chair behind him and resting on his knees as he put himself at Houston’s level, reaching up to caress his face with one hand, and wipe the new drool off his chin with the other.

“You did so good…” He murmured, voice low and rough, leaning in to give the man a chaste kiss as his hands moved downwards, roaming over his chest and quickly fumbling with the knots to undo them. There was a glazed look in Houston’s eyes, his whole body lax, though still shuddery from his orgasm. Hoxton took in the sight, and appreciated how vulnerable the ghost seemed in this state, and that he was trusted to be around him despite said apparent weakness. The ropes fell away after a few long minutes of quiet struggling, and Hoxton helped ease the man’s arms down by his sides, rubbing feeling into the spots where the skin was red and indented with the spiral patterns of the ropes.

He leaned in close, wrapping his arms around Houston and pulling him in to a hug, his voice soft as he spoke.

“Let’s take a hot bath an’ get cleaned up, okay?”


End file.
